


Want It All

by Severina



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Blogathon 2007
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-28
Updated: 2007-07-28
Packaged: 2017-10-10 14:35:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/100838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severina/pseuds/Severina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the age of four, Gus wanted to be a fireman  At six, a farmer.  At eight, he'd decided that he wanted to be a rock star -- Billie Joe Armstrong, preferably.  By the time he turned ten, and his father and Justin took him to a Broadway production of Les Miserables, he'd decided to become an actor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Want It All

**Author's Note:**

> Post Season Five  
> Written for Blogathon 2007, and prompted by LJ's secretsolitaire, who requested "B/J from the perspective of a teenage Gus".

At the age of four, Gus wanted to be a fireman At six, a farmer. At eight, he'd decided that he wanted to be a rock star -- Billie Joe Armstrong, preferably. By the time he turned ten, and his father and Justin took him to a Broadway production of Les Miserables, he'd decided to become an actor.

_["It's too old for him," Justin had insisted about the play, the same thing he'd said about the restaurant where they'd eaten before the show._

"My son has a refined palette," his dad had replied, also the same response he'd given earlier in the evening.

Gus had hated the lobster bisque -- and the stuffy waiters -- but he'd loved the theatre.]

The decision stuck, even through repeated attempts by his mothers to distract him with other interests. They tried Little League (even Jenny Rebecca caught better than he did), the arts (his sketch of Justin looked like an egg with feet) and dance (he was, he told his mother as she sorted through the paperwork on her latest case, the only straight kid in the class, and the teacher was a bigger drama queen than his Auntie Em, and he really never, ever, _ever_ wanted to wear leotards again.)

Acting was what he wanted.

At twelve, his moms sat him down for a "family meeting".

_[He had slumped on the sofa, frowning._

"We only want you to be happy, honey," his mother had sing-songed. She tucked a long blonde lock behind her ear, and he could almost see her hand twitching in its urge to smooth down his own unruly hair. "Isn't that right, Mel?"

"Of course it is, Linds," Melanie had agreed, nodding at mom before turning her attention back to him. "But it's important, sweetie, to ensure that you are laying a solid foundation for your future."

"I'm not a girdle, mom," he had protested.

Jenny giggled from the sofa, where she was supposed to be practicing her long division. He flashed her a quick grin that, unbeknownst to him, reminded both his mothers of his father. Lindsay smiled softly while Melanie went stiff and brittle, and Gus wondered what the hell he'd done wrong now.

"Don't get smart, young man," his mom had snapped.

"You can join the drama club when you start high school in the fall," Lindsay soothed. "We have no problem with that--"

"High school drama?" Gus had sniffed. "That's so… pedestrian."

"You'll just have to lower your high standards," Melanie had said. "We can't afford luxuries like drama coaches and summer placements."

And that was that. Or so he thought.]

His conversation with his dads, three weeks later, had gone marginally better.

_["So," his dad had said, "you're telling me that you want to be a waiter."_

"Brian." Justin shot his father an exasperated look before turning his full attention to Gus. "Ignore him. He was the first one to encourage me to give up Dartmouth--"

"I never did," Brian protested.

"He paid for me to attend PIFA--"

"It was an investment," his dad butted in.

"And when I wanted to take a shot at New York, he stood by me." Justin glanced at Brian pointedly, and when no interruption was forthcoming, he continued. "It'll be hard work and a long struggle, but if it's what you want, it's worth it."

"It's what I want," Gus had said decisively. He might have only been twelve, but he just knew_._

"Then we're behind you," Justin had said. His dad had nodded.

They spent the rest of his two week visit taking in every Broadway production he expressed an interest in, talking about his plans for the future and the awesome summer theatre camp he'd heard about online.

He's not quite sure how it happened -- except that his dad seemed to have a knack of getting his own way where his moms were concerned -- but dad sent the cheque and Gus became a regular summer participant at theatre camp.

He flourished.]

 

Now, at seventeen, he grinned as took his final bow in his final summer production. High school calculus and running for the track team were distant memories.

New York awaited.

"You're going to knock every casting agent on his fucking ass!" Terri gushed as she enveloped him in a bear hug as soon as he left the stage. The stage manager was, by far, the biggest, largest and loudest of his supporters, giving even his Gramma Deb a run for her money.

"I hope so," he said. She planted a big kiss on his cheek before hustling off to greet the other actors. And to leave room for his family.

His moms, actually happy and consistently getting along now that they'd finally split for good. Uncle Michael, shooting death glares at any boy who dared to linger in Jenny's presence. Gramma Deb, beaming. Carl and Uncle Ben. Even Hunter had made the drive all the way from California.

His dads.

"Sure you don't want to take me up on that offer?" his dad said, flinging an arm around his shoulder. "We can set you up at one of Kinnetik's corporate apartments."

"I'm sure," Gus replied. "Paying for my classes is enough." He fairly thrummed with excitement at the thought of intensive training. Learning his craft. If he could actually get paid for it, that was a bonus. It was the _doing_ that he wanted.

"If you change your mind--"

"I won't," Gus insisted. "Besides, I sort of want to do this on my own."

"Hmm." His dad cocked his head. "Sounds familiar."

"Yeah well, Justin is sort of my inspiration," Gus admitted. "But don't tell him. He has a big enough head as it is."

From across the room, Justin laughed at something Carl was saying. Brian turned to watch him and Gus, in turn, watched his dad's eyes soften.

He wanted it all. The mastery of his chosen craft. An amazing career on the New York stage. A supportive partner who was the love of his life.

If his dads could do it, so could he.


End file.
